I woke up with a searing pain in the back of my head. I was dazed, confused, and I wasn't sure where I was or how I had gotten there. All I knew was I wasn't someplace familiar to me. I seemed to be in some kind of storage room. My arms hung limply, and I soon realized that I had chains wrapped around my wrists that were attached to long posts that were equal in length and height. I tugged on the chains, but that caused a shooting pain to tear through my whole arm, it felt as though my arm had been broken. I was sitting on a stone floor, my knees were bleeding and covered in dirt, and my lip had dried blood all over it. I then noticed I was sitting in dried blood. My whole body ached, my head, worst of all. It hurt to breathe, every time I took a deep breath, I felt as though I was being stabbed in the chest. My wrists had many cuts from the chains, the sting was almost unbearable and tugging only made it worse. I sat there for hours trying to think of something other than the intolerable pain that shot through my entire body. After a few hours of drifting in and out of consciousness, I saw a light and heard footsteps slowly make their way down the staircase. The steps were slow but loud. All of a sudden, a bright light was turned on, and my father appeared. Once again, I found the source of my pain.
"Where am I?" I groaned.
"My cellar," My father answered, "I had a doctor look at you. He told me you have a concussion. You hit your head pretty hard, apparently," My father said in a monotone voice.
"What are you going to do with me?" I said, squinting because of the bright light that hung above my head.
My father stood a few feet away from me and looked at me as though I was dirt under his shoes. He began to pace and rub the temple of his forehead.
"I honestly don't know anymore," he replied.
"Why...didn't you kill me?" I gasped, struggling to breathe.
My father shook his head and then stopped abruptly form his frantic pacing, "Don't you see, Beth? I never put you in his godforsaken place because I wanted you dead! I was trying to save you," My father shouted.
My eyes went wide. He really believed that.
"Save me?" I repeated angrily with utter disbelief.
My father was just looking at the ground, he didn't say a word, and he seemed to be contemplating his words.
"Save me?" I shouted, producing a bloody cough.
"Beth, I have tried to protect you to the best of my abilities, and yet every time I turn my back on you, you are somehow getting yourself into trouble again." My father walked over to me and knelt down. "Why must you always test me, Beth? Why must you always test the boundaries? If I had any sense I would have killed you months ago, but do you know why I haven't?" My father asked with an eerie calm.
I wasn't sure if he expected an answer, but I just sat there and stared at him.
"You are my daughter, and I swore to protect you," He said plainly as though it made perfect sense and that any rational person should understand.
"So, you put me in a Nazi labor camp?" I said with rage in my voice, attempting to fight past the blinding pain.
"I put you here to keep an eye on you!" My father bellowed, "If I hadn't put you here, some SS man would have shot you long ago, you should be grateful," My father insisted.
I looked at my father with complete and utter disbelief. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"I thought if I put you here, then I would always know where you were, and I would always know you were safe. I have saved your life countless times. I was trying to teach you a lesson," My father said. His shame in me shone through, and yet it could not be matched by my own.
"You put me here because you are blindly following a cause you don't understand!" I yelled, feeling pain shoot through my chest.
"You are a child. You know nothing of this world and what it takes to live in it. I made sacrifices, and I believe in this cause, there is hope and fulfillment in it," My father said with confidence.
"You're a fool!" I shouted, and I thought I would pass out from the pain.
My father stood slowly and walked to the other side of the cellar, watching the ground move under his feet as he paced back and forth.
"You may not understand this now, but I did it for your own good. I did it for the good of this country," He said, talking to himself instead of me.
"You did it because you lusted for power," I said with a grimace.
My father quickly walked over to me and slapped me across the face as hard as he could, and the sting made me gasp and choke on the blood in my mouth.
"I did this for you!" My father shouted, "You broke the rules, you forced me to make a choice. I chose to keep you as safe as I could, and that's what I did. You can hate me all you want, but I am still your father, and I will always take care of you," My father said. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down, but I saw a few unshed tears threatening to fall like bombs.
"A part of me dies every single day I am here," I said, fighting back my own tears. "I am broken and lost. You haven't protected me from anything, you have caused me more harm than anyone else in this whole world. You have taken every person I ever loved or trusted. I don't want you living every day thinking you rescued me from some cruel fate, when you are the only person who has done any damage in my life."
My father looked at me with a confused expression he knelt down next to me again as a tear fell. He tried to stroke my cheek, but I pulled away.
"I love you, Beth," My father said, trying to sound kind.
"No, you love control," I spat.
He looked puzzled and then stood again, "I put you in here to save you from yourself. I can no longer spend every moment wondering where you are. You will remain here until I decide otherwise. I will keep you safe here, so you will know I love you," My father said sternly, "You killed a man, Beth. Do you understand that?" My father said.
"I know," I answered, unable to deny it.
"I have no choice but to make my men think you are dead. I have to punish you for your crime," he replied simply, and he began to walk away.
"Your guard tried to rape me!" I yelled after him.
Those words seemed to hit my father harder than anything else I had ever said. He slowly turned. "It's because they are starting to think I am weak, my men are starting to question me. I have no choice, Beth," He said, sounding wholly defeated and unhinged.
"Please let me out," I pleaded.
"You need to be controlled," My father said while walking up the stairs.
"Please! Don't leave me here," I exclaimed, feeling the stab of pain and panic.
"This is the only way I know I can keep you safe," My father answered.
He turned the lights off. I begged and pleaded until I heard the door slam shut, and I was left in the darkness of the cellar.
The darkness surrounded me. The air was stale, and I felt like I was suffocating. I was bent down on my knees, unable to move or get up because of the chains that held my wrists tightly in their grasp. There was no light, there was no sound. At times I heard rats scurry around, and sometimes the rats would come and crawl on me. I screamed as loud as I could for someone to come and save me, but I knew that even if someone did hear me, they wouldn't do anything about it. In fact, they would probably laugh at my limp body stuck in a dark pit.
I became unsure how much time had passed, but I just assumed that it had been at least a few days since my father had brought me there. I was forced to sit in my own filth and felt so hungry I was sick. At one point, the pain in my head caused me to pass out, that was my only point of rest while I was forced to stay in that pit of hell. I was slapped awake, and I gasped at the sudden pain that swept through my face. I noticed lights had been turned on, and my father stood over me with a victorious expression on his face.
"Now, Beth, I will take the chains off if you promise you won't attempt to escape," He offered.
I groaned in pain, unable to find the words, so I nodded limply. He then took out a key and unlocked the chains. My whole body crumpled, and my face slammed onto the cold ground. I felt pathetic lying on the floor like a sick dog at its master's feet, but my body was tired and weak, and I felt myself growing sick. My father knelt down next to me and smiled a small smile as he brushed a strand of hair out of my face. He then handed me a small plate with two small slices of bread and a small glass of water. I weakly reached for it, but my father slapped my hand away and shook his finger at me like he was teasing me.
"You can have this bread and water, once you agree to a few things." It was definitely a trap, but I was so hungry and thirsty, I wasn't sure I would have a choice but to agree to whatever he said.
I tried to sit myself up, but I didn't have the strength. I looked up at my father, angrily. He seemed blurry, so I waited for my eyes to adjust to the harsh light that hung overhead. I licked my chapped lips and tried to clear my throat that felt like sandpaper.
"What do you want?" I said hoarsely.
"Compliance," My father answered, "I don't like seeing you this way, I hope you realize that, but this is for your own protection,"
"You're insane," I rasped painfully.
"Beth, please, you are only hurting yourself by not taking my advice. Will you just stop being stubborn and listen?" My father urged.
I managed to drag myself to the wall and propped myself up against it, the pain in my ribs was blinding, and with every breath, I felt like vomiting. My head throbbed like there were small men inside of it, hammering away at the inside of my skull.
"Compliance with what?" I asked.
"I want to keep you safe, and I need you to allow me to keep you safe. That means you give up this heroic act. I can make this whole experience better, I could bring you a bed here, and good food," he continued.
I shook my head, "I would rather die than owe you anything."
"You are a fool, Beth. I am trying to help you!" He shouted, losing his facade.
I winced in pain, "You are just trying to ease your guilty conscious, which I want no part of," I growled.
My father kicked over the glass of water and stomped on the plate with the bread on it. I gritted my teeth but refused to show how much it killed me to watch him destroy what little chance at life I had left. My father stormed back upstairs and shut off the lights again. Once the door slammed shut behind him, I knew I would have no hope of ever seeing the light of day again. He would leave me down there to die, and my only chance of ever getting out of that place was gone. I pulled myself over to the place where he had kicked over the glass of water and began to lick the ground where the water had spilled. I reached for the broken glass and let the small droplets of water that was still left in the glass drip onto my tongue, and I ate what was left of the bread. I chose not to think of what had been on the bottom of my father's shoe when he stepped on the bread, I just ate it.
I lay on the cold hard ground staring up at the cellar ceiling, breathing shallow breaths and wincing in pain. I wondered if death would really be a punishment at all. I would get to see John, my mother, Mr. Becker, Anne, everyone I ever cared about would be up in heaven waiting for me. I still missed John so much it made my chest hurt worse than the broken rib did. I missed all of them so much that the thought of dying didn't seem so bad. I wondered grimly why there was even still a part of me that always wanted to live, it wasn't like I had anyone waiting for me out in the world if I did live. I wouldn't know how to work, I wouldn't even know how to go on living. If I ever got out of that dark pit, I felt like I would just enter an even darker hole called life. I wasn't prepared for what the world had in store for me. I hardly understood how the world worked period, let alone how to survive in it. My whole childhood had been spent in the protection of my parents and then the security of John. I was not weak, I knew I had a strength of some sort, but would it be enough to go on? I was still quite young, and I no longer had anyone around to teach me what it meant to live through pain and anguish.
I felt utterly helpless, but then Rolf's face popped into my mind unexpectedly. I smiled at the thought of Rolf. I wondered where my father had sent him and whether he was really still alive, or if my father had shot him and thrown him away like a piece of paper he didn't need anymore. The thought caused me pain. I had hardly known Rolf as a man. I really only knew him as my protector, the man who always appeared when I needed him the most. He made me feel warm and protected every time he stood close to me. His dazzling blue eyes and sandy blond hair would cause a small tingling feeling to go down my spine. He was tall and always hovered over me like a building. Thinking of his face caused me to feel a strange sense of peace. All of a sudden, a pang of guilt spread through me like a wave, and John's face appeared. His light, green eyes filled with hope and trust. His light brown hair swayed in the breeze of my mind, and he seemed to be sitting next to me in the darkness of the room. I felt like he was sitting near me, comforting me with his sweet innocent smile. I knew I was dreaming, but it felt good to not be alone in the darkness of the cellar. I reached for him, and all of a sudden, I felt a calm around me. John always brought me a sense of calm and peace. I didn't want the image of him to disappear.
"Will you stay?" I mumbled, knowing he wasn't really there.
"I'm not the one you need," He responded with a kind understanding smile.
"You are who I want," I insisted, feeling a bit strange for talking to nothing but caring little.
"Beth, you have to live," John's image said.
"I can't," I groaned pathetically.
"Beth, you have someone waiting for you out there. You just have to try and live," John responded.
"I'm all alone, John," I whimpered.
"You know that isn't true," John answered gently.
All of a sudden, I woke up, not knowing when exactly I had fallen asleep. I sat up quickly, breathing fast. The pain in my stomach caused me to gasp and take a moment to catch my breath. I looked around in the darkness, and I realized it had been a dream, but it seemed so real. I lay back down on the cold stone floor, and as I tried to regain my wits, I began pleading with God.
"Dear God, give me the strength to live and find my light at the end of this endless tunnel!"